Just call me Cinderella... as long as I’m home by 11
IWENT to a black-tie event held in a fancy pants hotel this week. This would have been an “Oh, I’ll go if I MUST” kind of occasion in a previous corporate life. Because, back in the day, black tie dos were the bane of my existence – tedious drawn-out affairs to be endured and expensed. Great for business networking and a car crash for the soul.
But this one was different. It was my first posh night out since the pandemic and the excitement levels were sky-high.
I’m not sure which bit I was most excited about. Wearing my favourite Morticia-Meets-1980sMadonna frock outside the house? Side-eyeing the other half looking all sexy in his tux? Losing a star on my Uber rating by serenading the driver with my best Whitney impression on the way home? All of the above, quite frankly. I was hungry for all of it.
Predictably, I was home, in my nightclothes, steaming cup of tea in hand by 11pm. And I regret nothing.
I won’t lie – telling fellow dinner guests I was leaving at such a reasonable hour made me feel like a massive school prefect. But I also managed to wake up feeling fresh, smash out a load of life admin and achieve a half marathon personal best time over the weekend (polishes imaginary apple).
So, I guess this is what turning 40 brings? (Gallic shrug.)
Just as we can plan fun nights on the tiles again, my body clock won’t let me do it anymore. GEE, THANKS, UNIVERSE.
For all my big talk of big nights out, I don’t have the stamina to make it to Cinderella o’clock, never mind the wee small hours, any more. The days of unplanned all-nighters and stumbling in with the milk float are long behind me.
Reassuringly, I’m not alone. In a thoroughly scientific straw poll, I asked some friends and the good people of my Twitter bubble how they felt about clubbing after 40.
Sample responses:
“It gets much, much tougher with age. I recently the 1980s and 1990s are now in their 50s and 60s. The kids who danced to Britpop/UK Garage/*insert niche musical genre* are now in their 40s.
We have much less free time, more responsibility and – crucially – more disposable income. So, reimagining how we do nights out, so we can scratch that hedonism itch while holding on to our sanity (and jobs), feels very much the way forward.
Enter stage left DJ Annie Mac, who recently announced she is launching a club night that will start at 7pm and end at midnight. The night has been designed for older ravers who still want to throw some shapes, but need their beauty sleep.
As she explained: “You shouldn’t have to wait till 1, 2am to see your favourite DJ on the decks. You should be able to access DJs at an earlier time, in the same way that we can access bands and other musical artists. And you should be able to get a good night’s sleep at the end of it.”
Amen to that. I think this is a genius idea. And for businesses in the nighttime (or should I say early evening?) economy, it makes perfect sense to target this market. There’s a growing army of us. We’re overstretched, overtired and on our way to being over the hill. But that doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy the communal rush of a crowded dancefloor any more.
When you get to your 40s or 50s, and you’re dealing with teenagers, older parents and a whole load of adulting stuff, sometimes a good old boogie is the best way to take the night off and forget about it all (for a few hours, at least).
Kicking off proceedings a little earlier means we can relive our halcyon days of hedonism while still making it home in time for the Horlicks.
I live in hope that somebody brings the concept of a ‘Cinderella night out’ to Wales very soon. I’ll be the one on a podium, very much having it medium.
@sararobinson81